These Hands of Mine
by cariicurse
Summary: There was something about the way his pale arms hugged the porcelain bowl as he heaved the contents of his stomach into it, something that made Harry love him.


**Disclaimer: **My name is Carii, I am not JKR so I do not own Harry Potter

**Warnings: **This story may contain offensive materials. Please bewhere.

**Author's Note: **I like reviews. Please review! Oh and if you like the story I'm just letting you know... I need a beta!

--Carii

...

Harry Potter walked into the Prefects bathroom immediately after the Welcoming Feast. Harry was finally a seventh year and he couldn't be happier that he was almost done with Hogwarts. Naturally one would like to believe that Harry loved his time at Hogwarts, but that was not the case. Hogwarts had indeed shaped Harry to be the young man he was today, but it was also because of Hogwarts that Harry stood in the bathroom watching the pale boy before him retch.

Ever since first year when Harry started receiving great amounts of food, he had been like this. The Dursley's had wired Harry's brain in such a way that he didn't believe himself worthy of such amounts of food. Half way through first year it began. Harry couldn't take it, he couldn't continue eating the way he was so every time he got done eating he would make his way to the loo and throw up everything he had eaten.

Of course after becoming a prefect in his fifth year this became easier. Nearly no one used the loo directly after meals so he was always alone, and he had access to the prefect's bathroom. Not once had he encountered someone in the bathroom after meals, at least not until today.

There was something about the way his pale arms hugged the porcelain bowl as he heaved the contents of his stomach into it, something that made Harry love him. His blond hair hung in his face and his grey eyes seemed dead. With one last heave he sighed and pulled away from the toilet. Finally realising that there was another person in the room, he froze.

Harry didn't feel the need to say anything as he approached the toilet next to the boy. Not bothering to close the stall door just as the other boy hadn't, he knelt in front of the toilet. Leaning over the bowl he heard the other boy stand up and exit his stall. Forcing two fingers down his throat as he pressed down on the back of his tongue and stroked softly, Harry groaned. Nothing happened, as always. Harry's gag reflex was shot after six years of purging. Adding two more fingers, Harry cursed silently. His hands were horribly swollen and bruised from purging. Stroking the back of his throat softly he finally achieved his goal. Yanking his hand out of his mouth, he rocked forward and emptied his stomach into the bowl.

Harry sat there for a moment before getting up and brushing past the boy. He had been standing behind him the entire time. After casting a taste and smell spell on his mouth he washed his hands and dried them. "We're one in the same," he whispered to Draco as he walked out of the bathroom.

As Harry trudged the long distance from the Prefects Bathroom up to the tower he couldn't help but wonder just why Draco Malfoy, of all people would be doing something like that. What was his tragic story? What had life thrown at him in order for him to lower himself to throwing up on purpose? Well, at least Harry though it was on purpose. He wasn't exactly sure but from the way that the tap turned on right after he excited the bathroom he had an inkling of an idea that Draco was like him. If not, Harry had just given Malfoy something to blackmail him with.

The blackmailing idea was quickly dismissed the next day. It seemed that it had passed rather quickly and not once had he heard whispers about himself, not once had someone stared at him a bit longer than usual. After diner Harry felt quite confident. So he was right, Draco Malfoy was bulimic too. Harry sighed, it was always hard admitting he had a problem, that he was what he was. But that night after dinner Malfoy wasn't in the Prefect's bathroom. It was then that Harry's confidence faded. Harry was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice Draco slipping into the bathroom right after he left.

Frankly, it seemed to Harry that Draco was avoiding him. Harry rarely saw Draco anymore except for appearances at meals and in the occasional class. There were no more bathroom meetings and he didn't encounter Draco in the corridors anymore which meant that they no longer talked. It seemed that Harry was never going to speak to Draco Malfoy ever again until one faithful Saturday afternoon after a Hogsmeade trip.

Harry had gone all out at Honeydukes. After all, it was expected of him. He had bought chocolate frogs, sugar quills, and a pound of Honeydukes finest chocolates. And then of course he had eaten nearly all of it at the goading of Ron. Now feeling sickly full, Harry was headed straight for the Prefect's Bathroom which he expected to be empty since nearly everyone was at Hogsmeade.

Sighing as he escaped into his safe haven, he spotted someone's belongings thrown in front of a sink and then he saw Draco Malfoy bent over the last porcelain bowl in the room. Harry stood still, just inside the doorway, for several minuets as he watched Malfoy try and empty his stomach. It appeared that he was having just as hard a time as Harry usually did which could only mean that Draco had to have been doing this for a while.

Harry felt a sense of pride swell in his heart as Draco finally succeeded in vomiting. With his suspicions confirmed, Harry once again knelt in the stall next to Draco and proceeded to throw up all the candy and chocolate that had once inhibited his stomach. By the time Harry had gathered enough energy to stand up Draco had already washed up and was sitting on bathroom floor leaning against the juncture between the two stalls.

After casting the proper spells and washing his hands Harry slid down against the sinks and sat facing Draco. "What reason does the Savior of the Wizarding World have to be as sick as to do this?" Malfoy asked him.

"What reason does the Slytherin Sex God have to be as sick as to do this?" Harry taunted back.

"I'm not perfect enough to be a Malfoy. Everyone loved you, but hated me. I though maybe if I was skinnier, better looking, that people would love me too. I was essentially afraid to be ousted from the Sex God role. I realised a bit too late that no one could love someone with hands like mine," Draco muttered as he showed Harry his hands. They, like Harry's, were swollen and bruised. The hands of a true purger.

"Growing up I had never been given proper amounts of food. I was told that freaks didn't deserve food and I was lucky I got any at all. Hogwarts messed me up. I believed everything they told me… I didn't deserve the food I was given. I lasted only two months eating 'normal' amounts of food. . . after that I couldn't take it. I've been puking my guts out for six years Malfoy and you think you're too late?" Harry informed him sadly.

Reaching out, Harry took one of Draco's mutilated hands in his own. Putting them palm to palm he gazed at them intently. His hand was the smaller one, though his was also the one that appeared to be in the worst condition. Cautiously he folded his fingers over into the spaces between Draco's fingers. After a short pause Draco did the same.

"Believe it or not, I'm here for you," Harry whispered as he stood up with his and Draco's fingers still intertwined. He placed a soft closed-mouth kiss on Draco's lips before letting go of his hand and turning to walk out of the bathroom. Before he even reached the door Harry felt Draco's hand wrap around his wrist as if he was trying to stop him. Draco leant forward and kissed Harry again, this time on his own terms. "Thanks," he said softly as he let go of Harry's arm.

"Anytime," was Harry's reply as he left the bathroom

chapter two


End file.
